


you make me want things I can't have

by Treecer



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Getting Together, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Era, M/M, Mutual Pining, Quidditch, lily "queen of repression" evans, very light angst, with a little help from the beatles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-04 22:56:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21205442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treecer/pseuds/Treecer
Summary: A post Quidditch cup celebration leads to some important revelations





	you make me want things I can't have

**Author's Note:**

> This is my very first fic! I've been meaning to write for a long time and I finally got off my metaphorical ass and did it. Based on the dialogue prompt that is also the title. Please comment if you feel like it! I'd love some feedback :)
> 
> Obligatory disclaimer: to my great disappointment I am not JKR and as such: not my characters, not my world.

It had taken a long time for the festivities to die down after Gryffindor won the house cup this year. That part wasn’t unusual, though previous parties had faced more push back from certain resident Gryffindor prefects. No, what was unusual was the crowd that was left in the common room now, as the once roaring hearth fire burned down to embers and the lamps cast flickering shadows on the gold and red drapes. Well, one person was unusual.

  
It had been a particularly brutal match - a record number of fouls, two time outs for emergency healings, and more swearing from Madam Hooch than Lily could ever remember hearing before. It was Gryffindor vs Slytherin, because of course it had to be, and Lily had been on the edge of her seat the whole time, eyes glued to a certain Gryffindor chaser as bludger after bludger was “accidentally” aimed his way. Marlene had had the audacity to actually call her on it, suggesting that she had more of an interest in the way the Quidditch kits fit than the actual score, but Lily had torn her eyes away from the game just long enough to give her a McGonagall worthy glare and declare that just because some people didn’t have the proper amount of house pride didn’t give them any leave to mock those who did. In other words, if she held her breath every time James had to make a particularly deft maneuver to avoid getting knocked off his broom, she’d never admit it. Anyways, for a myriad of reasons it had been a stressful match, and Lily had felt that she was perfectly justified to celebrate as hard as anyone after the fact. If she started to question why she was so eager to hang around until the team got back from the showers instead of going straight to bed as she would in previous years, she simply lost her train of thought in a glass of firewhiskey.

  
If anyone had been wandering the halls that night, eager to figure out where the Gryffindor common room was hidden, the cheer that went up when the team charged through the portrait hole certainly would have given the game away. They were mobbed immediately of course, hoisted onto shoulders, drinks shoved into their hands. Lily, Remus, and Marlene kept their seats in the corner, drinking quietly, knowing crushing towards the boys was pointless as well as embarrassing. They’d been discussing the match in detail before they were so raucously interrupted, which Slytherin players were the dirtiest, which fans the most annoying, whose banner had the cleverest charm on it, what best matched the shade of purple Madam Hooch’s face had turned, etc. As the noise died down Marlene attempted to start up the conversation again, her voice slowly dying off as she realized her companions were deaf and blind to anyone that wasn’t one of the two dark haired boys taking turns chugging firewhiskey out of the House Cup. She turned back to her drink, shaking her head at her two best mates.

  
It wasn’t long before Sirius extricated himself from the throng long enough to appear before their trio, his hair still wet from the showers, shirt unbuttoned, arms outstretched in triumph. He posed for a moment, as if allowing the crowds he just escaped from to worship him once more, before a warm smile melted the picture of arrogance and he had eyes only for Remus. “How’d I do baby?” he asked, walking over to nonchalantly straddle Remus’ lap, “Didya boy make you proud?” Remus shook his head indulgently, his fingers reaching up to trace the bruise that was blooming on Sirius’ cheekbone. “I’d be more proud if you could get hit with fewer bludgers,” he quipped, before leaning in to kiss his boyfriend softly. Lily and Marlene decided then that they might want to find somewhere else to sit.

  
They sprawled on the rug in front of the fireplace, and Lily decided abruptly that her “just drink more and you’ll stop thinking about how broad his shoulders are” strategy wasn’t working. Worse, she could see Marlene watching her watch James and she knew it was only a matter of time before she started needling her about it. Even worse, the world was spinning a little too much for her know exactly what she might say in response if Marlene made a particularly astute comment. It was time for a new distraction.

  
“Hey did you hear Dorcas broke up with Emmaline?” Lily blurted out. It was a hail mary, and an obvious one at that, but thankfully Marlene let it slide, her gaze snapping to the petite blonde seeker, the undisputed hero of the match, “She did? When?”

  
“I don’t know exactly but I haven’t seen them together in weeks and look at them now,” Lily responded, nodding her head towards Emmaline sitting in the far corner. She had her legs slung over the arm of her chair, nursing a drink, and looking entirely displeased. Lily and Marlene watched as she glanced at Dorcas, her pretty face twisting into a grimace as she took in the star player holding court in the center of the common room. “Someone’s not feeling house pride,” commented Marlene, raising her eyebrows at Lily. “Honestly, I’m glad they broke up,” Lily mused, “she never seemed good for Dorcas. I barely saw them when they were together and when I did it was because they were screaming at each other somewhere very public.”  
“You’re one to talk about public altercations,” Marlene giggled, elbowing Lily in a highly practiced gesture.

  
“Ok how about you shove it and go talk to the pretty gay girl who’s suddenly single?” Lily rejoined, maybe a little too quickly.

  
“All right, all right I’ll lay off for now, but only because she really is quite pretty” Marlene rolled her eyes, groaning as she hoisted herself off the ground. She staggered slightly as she made her way over to the gaggle of Quidditch fans surrounding the seeker, but Lily was willing to bet that the way she tumbled into Dorcas when she reached her had more to do with the way Dorcas’ smile glowed in the low light than anything Marlene had drunk that night.

  
Lily chuckled to herself and rolled onto her back in front of the fire, watching the flames dance through the amber liquid of the glass precariously balanced on her chest. She closed her eyes and let her mind wander back to the match, the way McClaggen had nearly punched Sirius when he jostled him hard enough to take back possession, how James has flown to his mate’s defense, the way his jaw had set in anger, how he gesticulated wildly while he yelled… shit. Lily suddenly saw the gaping hole in what had seemed a flawless plan to get Marlene to leave off making her think about James. She was now all alone, with no one to distract her in conversation. A touch frantically, she scanned the room, shaking her head slightly in an attempt to clear it, but only succeeding in making herself more dizzy. Remus and Sirius were still very much occupied, Marlene was with Dorcas, and the overall crowd had thinned considerably, essentially leaving only couples, Dorcas’s dwindling circle of admirers (who were trudging upstairs one by one as they realized that Marlene was going to hold Dorcas’ attention for the rest of the night), Peter and James playing Exploding Snap in a corner, and her, alone by the hearth.

  
Sighing, Lily assessed her options. She could just go to bed, which she didn’t feel like doing for reasons that had nothing to do with people she hadn’t spoken to yet that evening, she could mope here on the carpet, watching her mates get it on with their respective partners, or she could do what any self respecting Gryffindor alone at a party would do. She could bring her own party. Nodding decisively to herself, she leavered herself off the floor and headed for the stairs to the girls dormitory, oblivious to the forlorn eyes that followed her retreating back for long enough that a certain Chaser suffered lightly singed eyebrows, courtesy of a truly foolish card game. “It’s not polite to stare Prongsie” Peter admonished, snorting at the dazed look in James’ eyes, “and you know what happens when you’re not polite.” “Shit explodes in my face?” James sighed, turning his eyes back to Peter, who nodded sagely. “Exactly.”

  
James clearly forgot his lesson moments later, as his eyes snapped back to Lily descending the dormitory stairs holding something cumbersome and oddly shaped. “What on earth is she doing?” James muttered to himself before Peter exploded something else under his nose. “I’m under strict orders from Sirius not to let you pine while he’s busy,” Peter whined, clearly gearing up for yet another diatribe about how distracted his mates were with their romantic attachments, both requited and not. James silenced him with a withering look. “I’m not really in the mood for Exploding Snap anymore Pete” he muttered, shoving away from the table and leaving a deflated Peter behind as he resettled on a couch closer to the fire.

  
Lily, meanwhile, was too preoccupied to notice the argument the boy she was determined ignoring had with his mate, or that said boy had moved closer to her, alone. She busied herself setting up her mother’s old record player, an early birthday gift to “remind her of the world outside Hogwarts.” Her mum had sent her A Hard Day’s Night with it, her favorite Beatles album, and that was, according to a rather drunk Lily, exactly what this night called for. She downed the rest of her drink, coughing lightly as the firewhiskey lived up to its name, and turned on the record quietly.

  
It took her about two songs to get bored of swaying in front of the fire alone. Sure the flames were hypnotic, the liquor warm in her stomach, and the songs were familiar and nostalgic, but there’s really only so much “bringing the party” one person can do with no one to join in. If I fell in love with you… the record player warbled on in the background as Lily turned to lock eyes with the one person she’d be avoiding all night. Lily didn’t know what to blame it on, the hypnotic flames, the late hour, or all the whiskey she had drunk, she just knew she was tired of fighting it. All her distractions had failed and there he was, sitting quietly, watching her dance.

  
“Jamesie, come dance with me” she pouted, reaching towards him and making little grabbing motions to coax him off the couch. “You know you’re the only one I let call me that” he grumbled, shoving himself to his feet and hoping his grimace hid the way his heart still thrilled every time she called him something other than a derisive “Potter.”

  
She grabbed him carelessly and pulled him closer, the warmth of his calloused hands filling her up like neither the fire nor the whiskey had managed to do. He wasn’t really dancing, just sort of standing with his hands in hers, watching her as she closed her eyes and swayed, the flickering light of the common room making her red hair glow like the coals of the hearth. She lifted one of his hands and twirled under it, trying to entice him into really dancing with her on the small square of carpet. Before this dance is through I think I’ll love you too… the songs continued and Lily began to sing along softly, eyes still closed, a teasing smile playing on her lips, “I’m so happy when you dance with me...”

  
James dropped her hands abruptly and her eyes snapped open mid turn to look up into his face questioningly. After a perfectly still pause, he raised a hand, almost as if it pained him to do so, and ever so softly brushed back a strand of her mussed hair. His hand rested on her cheek lightly and she brought hers up to cradle it, as if to hold him to her. “James what’s wrong?” she asked, more as something to say than as a real question. In that moment she could see it all, everything he was holding back for the sake of their friendship, and how much it cost him to do so. The last vestiges of his bravado crumbled from his face at her touch and her words. He dropped his eyes from hers. So quietly she almost couldn’t hear it over the record, he whispered, “you make me want things I can’t have.”

  
Turning, he pulled his hand from hers, leaving Lily reeling, attempting to process his raw confession and her confused feelings all at once, before she missed another chance. He had made it halfway to his dorm before she found her voice, calling his name out in a strangled, desperate tone. He paused without turning, one foot on the stairs, and let her catch up with him, unable to ignore that voice. “James who says you can’t have it?” she panted out, the adrenaline of the moment leaving her breathless. He finally faced her, the same sad eyes, the same defeated face now touched with bewilderment, “I mean… you did,” He muttered a little bitterly, running a hand through his already disheveled hair, “Like… many, many times.” “Ask me again,” she said, her voice steadier now, her face serious. His eyes searched her face, wary, and she was hit with a pang of regret that nearly knocked her over. How much had she hurt him without meaning to? How many times had he made himself vulnerable to her, only for her to cut him down? She shoved the thought spiral down. “Ask me again,” she repeated, nodding at him. A lopsided smile began to tug at his mouth. Finally, he stepped off the stairs and faced her fully. Grabbing both her hands in his, very solemnly, he asked the question she’d been waiting to hear again for months, “Evans, will you go out with me?” She decided kissing him would be the best response.


End file.
